


A Mother's Love

by filamero



Series: The World of Emotions [1]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: -Ish, /j, Angst, Dream SMP Lore, Dream Team SMP Angst (Video Blogging RPF), Dream is their son, Family Dynamics, Family Fluff, Flashbacks, Fluff, Found Family, Hurt No Comfort, Mother-Son Relationship, Puffy and Niki are moms, at the beginning only though, come get yalls juice, i actually have no idea how else to tag this, ish, its okay i also have mommy issues, oh boy it's all, pspsp parent issues mcyt fandom, the end you say?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 10:35:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28902006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filamero/pseuds/filamero
Summary: It is often said that a mother’s love is the purest love of them all, and that to lose a mother's love means to become unlovable all the same.—In which Puffy thinks about her son, from both the past and present.
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy/Niki | Nihachu, Clay | Dream & Niki | Nihachu, Sorry, not the main focus though - Relationship
Series: The World of Emotions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2123397
Comments: 4
Kudos: 177





	A Mother's Love

**Author's Note:**

> so this originally began as a simple fluffy one shot but my brain went hey we haven't angst'd in a while, let's angst
> 
> aaanyways, i hope you enjoy [:

It is often said that a mother’s love is the purest love of them all. Whether by blood or by choice, it is said to be strong. Stronger than that of friends who have been there for each other through thick and thin, stronger than that of the heart when it finally finds its other half—It is said to be the only real bond in the world, the only true love that a person could find in their lifetime. Unwavering, unshaken, unconditional for as long as it lasts.

To lose a mother’s love means to become unlovable all the same.

Puffy remembers the first time she encountered Dream. 

Just a few months after she had retired from her ships and her crew to settle down in a little village, helping the ever-so-charming Niki start up her bakery. Not too far from the coast, so she could visit what she embraced for many years in her life. She had been out in the market with a satchel full of emeralds, trading for wheat, sugar, flour—all the likes of which Niki would need to bake her delicious goods. In the midst of a particularly good trade, she heard a faint ‘hey!’ and frantic footsteps, followed by her getting shoved into the wooden cart of the vendor. Whipping around to lash back, she was just in time to see a child stumble onto his rear, holding a loaf of bread to his chest as if his life depended on it. Before her confusion could even fully settle in, another vendor came running, eyes zoned in on the child.

And he did not look happy.

Puffy wasn’t quite sure what washed over her, quickly getting onto her knees to be at level with the poor boy before the vendor reached them. “There you are!” she cried out in fake relief, resting one hand on his shoulder and putting on a worried face. “I thought I lost you!” Her act seemed to confuse the vendor (just as much as it confused the boy). She turned to look up at the (thankfully) less angry adult, forcing a sheepish smile. “I’m so sorry, sir. I had asked this...this little troublemaker here to grab me some other supplies on the other end of the market. Growing boys need to start doing things on their own, don’t you think?” she explained, shifting to be in between both of them for extra measure. “I must’ve forgotten to give him some emeralds to pay with, silly me,” she continued, rising to her feet and rummaging through her bag. “How much is the bread?”

There was an almost painful silence as she stared the vendor down, her cheeks starting to hurt from how long she was holding the smile. Much to her relief, he seemed to believe her lie, holding his hand out and mumbling, “Two emeralds.” She handed the payment over with no qualms (even though she knew that the bread around these parts was normally one emerald), helping the boy up onto his feet and gripping his hand before he could sprint off. She needed to keep the act up, or else she might get roped into bigger trouble. 

“I’m sorry again for the trouble,” Puffy chuckled, quickly tossing six emeralds to the vendor she was talking to before and snagging two bags full of apples from his stand. “I’ll make sure that this doesn’t happen again, I assure you.” She went off without another word, dragging the child with her until they were a safe enough distance away from the market.

He attempted to wriggle his wrist out of her hand, just about to sprint off again—but she kept a firm hold as she turned to face him. “Give me a minute, will ya?” she sighed, setting both bags of apples down and peeking into them. He stood still, and Puffy managed to get a better look at him now that she didn’t have to worry about his safety from an angry villager. Clad in a sweater that seemed much too large and pants that nearly covered his bare feet, she couldn’t help but frown. Carefully letting go of his wrist, she tied up one of the bags and held it out to him. He stared at her, big green eyes swimming with confusion. She nudged his arm, and he eventually took the bag from her. “Take these with the bread too,” she said gently. “They’re apples, so they might spoil quickly, but they should last you long enough to get more food.” Slowly, he nodded his head before giving her a small smile and scampering off. 

Puffy never failed to see him every time that she visited the market. It was almost like clockwork; she would arrive with her satchel of things to trade, and within five minutes of walking around, the gentle patter of smaller footsteps trailing after her own could be heard. A glance over her shoulder and sure enough, the little boy would be following her around. He would always stand close to her, even clutching onto her red overcoat whenever the street got crowded and a small child like him would be easily trampled over. With each passing encounter, Puffy found herself more and more endeared with him, dubbing him her ‘Little Duckling’ in her head. 

One day, she asked for his name. 

“Dream,” he told her, and she didn’t realize that it was the first time that she was hearing his voice. “My name is Dream.”

Puffy wondered if the boy’s parents named him that way because they had high hopes for him, and if they ever predicted that they would be gone—it didn’t take a genius to figure out that he was orphaned and homeless, comical as it sounded—before he even had the chance to do anything.

On that very same day, a storm had settled over the village. It wasn’t anywhere near what Puffy’s witnessed out on the ocean, but it was clear that it was more than what Dream has ever seen. A particularly loud bit of thunder seemed to scare the poor boy half to death, clinging to her side and looking fearfully up at the sky. There was no hesitation in Puffy’s head, leaning down, hoisting Dream into her arms, and balancing him and their newly traded supplies on either of her hips. “Let’s get home,” she hummed softly, starting up a soft jog back to her and Niki’s shared cottage that was connected to the bakery, “before this storm picks up even more, yeah?”

Dream nodded his head, wrapping his arms around her neck and resting his head on her shoulder as she rushed back.

Niki welcomed Dream in with open arms, a motherly smile, and a nice bowl of soup to warm him up after getting slightly soaked in the rain.

And when Dream curled up into her side as he drifted off to sleep, Puffy felt her heart swell in a way that only a mother could feel.

That night, Puffy accepted that she was a mother, and Dream was her son.

Some days, he would accompany Puffy back to the market as he did before, following behind her and staying out of trouble. He paid extra attention whenever she would do negotiations, and he tugged on the end of her coat sleeve whenever she finally came to an agreement. It would always make her chuckle and hand him the right amount of payment, hooking her hands underneath his arms to lift him up. He would hand it over himself, grinning brightly as he handed the newly gained supplies back to Puffy. She even let him try and strike a few deals on his own, and she was a little surprised to see that many of the villagers would consider some of his offers that they wouldn’t bat an eye at if she had been the one to recommend it. (Though, frankly, she figured it was his age.)

Other days, he would stay home with Niki, helping her bake goods for their flourishing business. Those days often consisted of Puffy coming home from her local travels or trading to the two of them in the kitchen, her little duckling giggling and covered in flour or batter. Niki would pretend to be upset and scold him gently, but all Dream did in return was giggle and respond with an honestly half-assed, “Sorry, Niki!” The mostly ingenuine apology was never too important, for Niki would easily forgive him and play into his antics, teaching him how to be cleaner on his own in a nicer manner. It would take both of them a minute or two to notice that she came in, and when they did, Dream would hop off of his little stool and come crashing into her arms for a hug.

It was almost scary how quickly Dream fell into the groove of things, turning their family of two into a family of three. They bought and sewed him new clothes, he brought them a new kind of adventure every day—unpredictable and welcome all the same.

A loud crack of thunder echoes through Puffy’s ears, and she’s snapped back into reality. The familiar coast and quaint cottage in her memory fade away into the sight in front of her; a large crater, where a beautiful country used to stand. Her ears are still ringing slightly from the onslaught of explosives that rained down from the sky just moments before. An eerily perfectly set up grid of obsidian hovered above where she stood, casting shadows over what used to be so bright and beloved. She notices a hand reaching up beneath her, quickly scrambling down and hoisting who she realized was Tubbo from a thin ledge on the side of the crater. The teen scrambles over to Tommy the moment he’s on stable ground, flinching hard at the second boom of thunder that Puffy registers.

The wind blows against her figure, and her soaked overcoat does nothing to shield her from the cold. The armor she wears isn’t much help either, weighing her down just as much as her damp clothing is. A shiver wracks her body as she holds her arms close, looking out at the wreckage. Hardly anything remained of New L’manburg—even the debris of what used to be got blown to bits by the endless TNT and withers. Her eyes wander the pitiful scenery, snagging on a figure across from her on the other end of the crater.

Clad in a green sweater—one that was no longer oversized on his figure the way it had been years ago—standing tall and proud—having outgrown both Puffy and Niki in his teenage years—was Dream.

Her Dream.

Her little duckling.

The lightning seems to strike the ground right behind him, and he didn’t even bat an eye at it. Puffy feels a lump rise in her throat, tears starting to trickle down her face and mixing with the rain pounding down from the darkened skies. She refused to believe the Dream she was seeing now was the same one that she met at the market, even if the two shared messy, dirty blond hair and striking jade eyes. But even in her heart’s denial, her head knows better, and she is left to wonder where her sweet boy had taken a turn for the worse. She stares at the stark white porcelain covering his face, the somewhat-poorly scribbled on smile setting her nerves off—and all she can think of is his toothy smile from way back when.

Puffy isn’t sure who is crying harder: herself or the skies. Both mourning the loss of something so precious, so beloved, that even if it were to be replaced, it wouldn’t be the same. 

For weeks on end had she witnessed just how much he had changed since she last saw him. Seeing him act so cold when her memories of him were so warm. He still acted playful around her, but there was something so taut about his posture, so malicious about his smile, so ingenuine with his words that she couldn’t bring herself to fully believe that it wasn’t an act. She had seen how he had everyone’s strings wrapped on his fingers, pulling and pushing them as he pleased, as if they were the toys that she used to buy him from the marketplace. She had looked him in the eyes one day when he didn’t have his mask on, and she couldn’t recognize him. No longer was there a fiercely bright twinkle in his eye, ready to take on what the world would throw at him. No longer were his features defined yet welcoming, the kind that brought you in and made you feel safe. No longer did his smile turn up the whole way, making her heart swell with a certain pride and love that only a mother could feel.

This night, Puffy admits to herself, is the night that she accepts that she is no longer a mother, and Dream is no longer her son.

It hurts; her heart weeps for the loss of someone who was still alive yet painfully unrecognizable. She wants to say that it’s not true, that somewhere, her duckling is still there, the one that waited to trail after her as she traded in the market. The one that stood atop the little wooden stool in the kitchen, begging Niki to let him crack the eggs for the batter open. The one that never really blew on his spoonful of soup before taking a bite, making her and Niki dissolve into a fit of giggles as he whined about how hot the food was. She wants to turn the other way, act like she didn’t witness the things that she did, bring Dream close and hug him tight.

But she knows she can’t.

She knows that as unwavering as her love is—no, was—for her son, the man in the green sweater and netherite armor isn’t him. It’s painful to admit, but she knows her little duckling, her sweet boy, her Dream was long gone. And as much as she wants to reach out, travel to the highest mountains, reunite her crew and get out on the sea, walk the length of the entire world to get him back, she knows he’s nowhere to be found. Lost where no one, not even herself or his closest friends could reach him. 

Puffy straightens her posture, not bothering to rid her face of the tears because of the thunderous rain. Her eyes land on Dream—the cruel, unforgivable, unrecognizable Dream—one last time before she turns around. Her instincts scream at her to throw a glance over her shoulder, her ears expect to hear the gentle patter of smaller footsteps following her, her eyes long to see the little boy she had taken in all those years ago. But she faces forward, swallowing thickly and heading to everyone to provide aid where needed.

The rain seems to pour down even harder, mourning the loss of a poor boy and his mother’s love for him.

For to lose a mother’s love means to become unlovable all the same.

**Author's Note:**

> might make one from niki's perspective as well one day if i feel up to it, since she now has a whole vendetta against dream and wants him dead :P for now, it ends here


End file.
